


Back to the Past

by Tomatosoupful



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: A trio of kids in a shitty world, Again, Gen, Time Travel, having some fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-15 14:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11232528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomatosoupful/pseuds/Tomatosoupful
Summary: For 10 years, the bond between Old Ben and Vader has been as silent as the gravesite that is the ruined Jedi Temple. Then one day, without warning, the two can feel each other in the Force again.Meanwhile, three 11-year-old kids awaken in an alleyway on Coruscant. Their names are Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padmé.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissLearn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLearn/gifts).



> PS first few parts of this story will not work on mobile because of its format. Sorry!!
> 
> I know I shouldn't be writing another story, especially with a big one I should be attending to, but I could not let this idea go. I had to play around with it.  
> And yes, this is just a little thing for MissLearn who has always been lovely and supportive. They write great stuff too so CHECK IT OUT if you haven't already.
> 
> I'm also doing a little experiment with my writing. I have been previewing it before uploading so I am hoping it will work. And yes, it took me a while to get everything to align properly. At least in the previews ...PLEASE WORK!

 

It was night

 

Obi-Wan rolled into a ball                                           Anakin splayed out                                                               Padmé buried into

under the covers.                                                        like a starfish.                                                                       a pile of pillows.

Tomorrow, he would work                                           Tomorrow, he would avoid                                                   Tomorrow, she would practise

even harder.                                                                difficult classes.                                                                    problematic politics.

Someone will surely                                                     Someone will surely                                                              Someone will surely

choose to train him.                                                     hear his cry for help.                                                            see her fears.

 

It was day.

 

And all three children awoke to each other’s company.

~o0o~

 

                                             Old Ben of the Tatooine Wastelands abandoned his tea.

                                                                                                                         Darth Vader of the Empire abandoned a meeting.

 

                                                      He gathered all meagre belongings and rushed out the door.

                                                                                                             He stormed to his TIE fighter and started the engine.

                            

                                                                        Getting away from young Luke was all that mattered now.

                                                                                                       Getting to his old master was all that mattered now.

                                          

                                                                                  Because suddenly both knew exactly where each other were.

 

~o0o~

The walls and ground were wet and slimy with moss. Obi-Wan grimaced in disgust. The creche quarters were always purely white and gleaming with cleanliness. The creche masters never allowed a mess to break out. Obi-Wan’s grimace deepened at the thought of the masters. He was in so much trouble, and the worst part was that he had no explanation.

How had he gone from his bedroom to the dirty streets of Coruscant?

Beside him were two other kids in the same scenario as him. Too bad they were as useless as each other. The girl wore a golden nightgown so intricate and rich in detail it would make the creche masters launch into a tirade on the frivolity of material wealth and its insignificance to the Jedi. The boy, like Obi-Wan, wore standard nightwear custom for the Jedi. Unlike Obi-Wan, the boy sported a thin braid dangling behind his right ear reflecting his status as a Padawan. Initiate Obi-Wan burned with jealously then tried to stamp it down knowing it was unruly emotions like that which made him so unappealing to Jedi masters.

The Padawan peered at the girl, “So, wait, you are –?”

“–My name is Padmé,” the girl answered formally. She was the tallest of three and took great pleasure in this. “And your name, mister…?”

The Padawan’s face burst into a grin so abundantly joyous it made Obi-Wan wonder how he had been chosen by a master for such flagrant disobedience of the Code. Padmé’s hands were clasped between the Padawan’s as the blond boy exclaimed, “It’s me: Anakin! I can’t believe you’re here! What happened to you? Is that some crazy make-up? How did you get to Coruscant? Why are you so–?”

Padmé untangled herself from Anakin and wiped her hands on her nightgown. “We’re on Coruscant?”

Obi-Wan attentively moved towards them. “Yes? Where else would you be?”

“On Naboo of course!” Padmé exclaimed. Her face had paled and the complex series of braids and pins that made up her hairstyle were falling apart. Strands of hair stuck to her face as she said, “How did I end up here? I must have been kidnapped!”

Obi-Wan frowned and pondered on the same thing. The streets and buildings around the Jedi Temple were polished and decorated. Beyond the grimy alleyway they were currently hidden in, the Initiate could see a bustling crowd made up of individuals so uncivilised in their code of dress it was impossible for them to be anywhere near the Temple.

The other boy, Anakin, toyed with his braid as he thought aloud, “Yeah, you must have been kidnapped. Probably by the Trade Federation. Those bantha turds never know when to stop.”

Obi-Wan gaped at the language spouted by the Padawan. Padmé shook her head at the claim. “The Trade Federation are spineless and greedy,” she agreed. “But Naboo has no qualms with them. And neither does the Naberrie Family. No, it must have been one of my political opponents.”

“But why would they do that?”

Anakin and Padmé turned to the third member of their lost group. Obi-Wan added, “And why else would, sorry what was your name again?”

“Anakin.”

“Why else would Anakin and I end up here as well? We got nothing to do with Naboo politics.”

Padmé scrunched her nose up. “You’re Jedi, aren’t you? I can tell by your clothing and hair. Maybe your Masters are involved –”

“–I don’t have a master,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly.

Anakin bounced in between the two and said, “Well, my master and I helped out Naboo a few years ago. We were called heroes. So maybe that’s why I’m here.”

Padmé eyed the Padawan. “Heroes? I don’t recall such a thing happening. The last time the Jedi were invited to Naboo was over fifty years ago. That’s what my mother told me.”

At Anakin’s frown, Obi-Wan felt a nauseating feeling bubble in his stomach. Something felt wrong and its revelation was drawing nearer like an incoming stampede. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around himself and muttered, “I got a bad feeling about this.”

“There’s nothing –wait…” Anakin scrutinised Obi-Wan. “What’s your name?”

Hearing Anakin’s tone, Padmé stopped attempting to rearrange her hair back together. Her gaze was fixed on the redheaded boy wondering what was so special about him to make the Padawan act so serious. Anakin waited with baited breath. Obi-Wan felt uneasy but a soothing caress of the Force encouraged him to answer truthfully. “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

For Padmé, she pouted at the underwhelming answer. For Anakin, his eyes widened, looked up and down, soaking the entirety of the boy in front of him before whispering in awe, “Wizard!”

~o0o~

Old Ben sold everything he had except for the treasures locked away in a wooden box. That, he kept in a bag slung over his shoulder. With credits made, he bought a one-way ticket off Tatooine and then offered his service for the crew as a means of earning the second currency of Hutt Space, respect. Judging by the pleased expression on the Rodian captain’s face, he was welcomed and wouldn’t find himself flung into the dark depths of space in his sleep. Not when he was the only one on board who knew how to cook a decent meal. Apparently, the last chef had tried selling the crew out and was rewarded a laser to the gut.

As Ben prepared the meals, he concentrated on the bond between himself and his fallen brother. The flames of Mustafar had sealed the door between the two forever. Or so both had thought. When Ben had woken up that morning he expected to robotically move through the slow morning routine with nothing but the silence of a desert for companionship. Once, chatter was delivered alongside a cup of hot fresh tea. Now, Ben occasionally mumbled to himself to fill the gap and ease the ache in his heart. But today had been different.

Today, Ben felt Vader’s Force signature. It was ice cold yet burnt when touched.

And Old Ben ran.

Knowing neither him nor Vader were going to waste any time.

~o0o~

Anakin was dumbfounded.

He trailed behind the girl of his dreams and the boy that was his master. Both were still discussing how they had appeared in a random alley and what their next plan of action should be. Padmé was convinced a conspiracy against her family had brought them here. Obi-Wan continuously dismissed her opinion, outright labelling it stupid, and argued the Jedi at the Temple would help.

“The Grand Master Yoda will probably know what happened,” Obi-Wan said. “He has the answers to everything.”

Anakin couldn’t agree with that notion. Master Yoda had never offered him any useful advice other than meditation. Perhaps the old gremlin would get the shock of his life upon witnessing a young Kenobi wandering around their time period. Anakin had followed the two kids quietly but with bewilderment and excitement threatening to burst from him like a steaming teapot. He had no clue how he was going to break it to Obi-Wan and Padmé that neither were supposed to exist as they currently are at the present moment. Knowing both (enough) they would latch onto such an accusation like glue and nothing would ever get done.

“Hey, you guys got any credits on you?”

Obi-Wan checked his pockets whilst Padmé murmured, “No.”

Sunlight blinked off the small gems attached to the pins in Padmé’s hair. Anakin pointed to them. “We could sell those and rent a speeder. I can drive us to the Temple.”

Ignoring Padmé’s aghast expression, Anakin looked for Obi-Wan’s approval. Obi-Wan amended the plan. “How about we just hire a taxi to take us there?”

Anakin slouched. It seemed no matter what age, Obi-Wan was against him driving a speeder. “Alright,” he admitted.

Padmé fiddled with a lock of her brown hair as she huffed, “Don’t you have anything to sell?”

“Jedi don’t have possessions,” Obi-Wan answered. Padmé wasn’t a fan of that response.

The trio continued through the streets of Coruscant searching for a shop to sell the pins. The buildings were as tall as mountains and with the tips almost touching, sunlight just barely managed to seep through. The warmth it provided only served to boil those shuffling through the busy crowd, sharing body heat, and increasing temperatures to unbearable levels. One would sweat just walking from one side of the street to the other. Those in business attire were rare and stood out thanks to the sophisticated suits and the group of guards hired to protect them. It didn’t escape Padmé’s notice that most of those with upper status and wealth were human, which reminded her of the disparities and discrimination many non-human entities faced on planets like Coruscant. She remembered her mother saying that Naboo was not exempt from this. One need only look at the history between humans and the Gungans to learn Naboo still had much to do but Padmé was determined to be the one to build a bridge between the two species.

Padmé squeaked when a large alien bumped into her. Anakin grabbed her hand and pulled her up before she could meet the ground. He didn’t let go of her. “We should hold each other’s hands,” he suggested. “We don’t want to get separated from each other.”

Obi-Wan sighed long and slowly before begrudgingly taking Anakin’s other hand. “Fine.”

With Obi-Wan in the lead, the children made it through the crowd. They pretended to not see the confusion of those noticing their nightclothes. Anakin was gawking at the cityscape around him. Growing up in the desolate land of Tatooine, he was still amazed at the many directions civilisations turned to across the galaxy. Giant advertisements projected over entire buildings showing off a new perfume to chase away the fishy smell of Mon’ Calamari, a water-proof lipstick, and false eyelashes designed for aliens without them to begin with. Anakin couldn’t help but think it was a little silly.

“Here,” Obi-Wan said, dragging the two into a shop.

Once the door closed sound dissolved away, along with the city’s oily smell. Now, the kids smelt spices and woods, and heard only the clatter of tools in the back. The counter was empty. Anakin let go of the others’ hand and jogged up to the counter. He slammed a palm on the ringer. It dinged loudly. Obi-Wan flinched and felt increasingly bothered someone like Anakin was made a Padawan. Padmé wondered if he had ever learnt proper etiquette. Anakin flashed them a bright grin when footsteps sounded. A woman followed.

“What do we have here? Where are your parents?”

“Naboo,” Padmé mumbled under her breath as Anakin replied, “Doesn’t matter.”

Obi-Wan nervously looked at the ground as the woman inspected them. Although she clearly wasn’t thrilled with the vague answer, she shrugged and said, “I see. What can I help you with? You need clothes?”

Both Obi-Wan and Padmé flushed. Anakin chuckled which only made the woman like him more. “We wanted to sell some stuff. Can you help us?”

It was a task in of itself to completely undo Padmé’s hair. She yelped when Obi-Wan tugged too hard and glared when Anakin joked about being a dress-up doll. “I’m sorry Padmé! Really!” Anakin insisted, promising to never upset her again. Eventually, all of the girl’s hair fell below her shoulders and tickled her bare arms. Padmé kept out of the haggling, content to grouch over her lost possessions. Her mother had gifted those to her a year ago.

“Wow! So much!” Anakin gasped in delight. He weighed the pouch of credits in his hand.

“This is the best I could do for you,” the woman said earnestly. “Haven’t been getting great business as of late. As you can see. The place is a bit roughed up.” All heard something fall and crash behind them.

Obi-Wan snorted, “No, please, this place is fit for a king.”

The woman decided she liked the redheaded boy the least. She smiled at Anakin, waved politely to the girl and turned her nose up at the last kid as they left.

Outside, Obi-Wan brushed himself off, glad to be rid of that place. As Anakin held out a hand for a taxi, Padmé pulled another hairpin from her mass of hair and felt a sense of relief. Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Anything else hidden in there?”

“Not funny,” Padmé snapped.

Anakin whooped when a taxi swerved towards him. The window rolled down to reveal a Wookie driver. “…Oh,” Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. “You can speak Wookie, right?”

“ _No_.”

As the boys used extravagant hand gestures to explain to the Wookie how to get to the Jedi Temple, Padmé took in the sights around her one last time. This was going to be the last she saw of this place, she believed. Soon she would reach the Jedi Temple, be returned home, the conspiracy against her family would be handled, and then she would continue her training and campaign to become Naboo’s next Queen. Coruscant would be visited again since it was the political heart of the Republic but this very street? Amongst the many billions of streets in the galaxy, probably never again. Padmé noticed a small child looking at her.

The child was younger and skinnier. She was dressed in ratty torn clothes, long hair unkempt, and her eyes were too knowledgeable of things one her age should not know. She gazed at Padmé curiously and Padmé looked back, feeling infuriated with the injustices of the world. Padmé drew closer and offered the young girl a smile. She held out a hand, uncurled her fingers and exposed the bejewelled hairpin. Without words spoken yet a thousand messages sent through eye contact, the girl accepted the gift blushing a deep red.

“Padmé!” Anakin called out. “You coming?!”

Padmé nodded. “Coming! Goodbye…” she whispered to the girl before dashing into the taxi.

Obi-Wan sat at the front. Padmé had to shove Anakin along so there was space between them. Anakin sulkily looked out the window, wishing he could sit next to his crush. As the taxi took off, Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder at the pair. “Once we get to the Temple, I’ll do all the talking, okay –?”

“–Why?” Padmé asked snootily.

“–But I’m a Jedi too. Why you?” Anakin also said.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Cause Master Yoda knows me.”

“He knows everyone,” Anakin countered crossing his arms.

Obi-Wan felt frustration building again. “Yeah but he knows me really well. He likes me a lot. He’s always busy but if he hears I need help, he’ll come. Okay? Okay.” At that, Obi-Wan turned back to the front and grumpily looked out the window. Forgetting what species he was talking to, Obi-Wan said to the driver, “Excuse me, how long will it take to get there?” Anakin snickered at Obi-Wan’s mistake.

“In about ten minutes,” the Wookie replied in Basic.

Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padmé stared and the Wookie laughed at his prank.

~o0o~

“Why would kids like you want to go to the Temple anyway?” the Wookie broke the silence minutes later.

None of the children were particularly sure how to answer. Half of it was getting over the fact a Wookie was speaking plain Basic rather than their common roaring language. And the other half was the strangeness to such a question. Obi-Wan found the words. “Because we’re Jedi and –?”

The taxi halted. Seatbelts snagged and scratched skin as they contained the occupants. The Wookie turned to Obi-Wan and said sharply, “Don’t say such things! Even if it’s just for play, the Empire doesn’t take any chances. Your parents would be horrified for such reckless behaviour!”

Obi-Wan gaped at the Wookie.

“What?” Anakin voiced both their thoughts. “But we’re –”

“– _Don’t!_ ” the Wookie cut in. Padmé felt cold as she recognised fear weighing the driver’s words. “I’m serious kids, I’ve heard stories. The Empire will hunt after whatever hint they hear of the Jedi. They’ll send their executioner.”

A cloud of foreboding hovered over Anakin. “An executioner? Who?”

“They call it Vader,” the Wookie replied and shuddered. “Never want to be on the bad side of Vader. So enough with your games already! What are you really going for the Temple for? A school assignment?”

Offended and overwhelmed with confusion, Obi-Wan was about to defend his title as a Jedi when he was interrupted by Padmé. “Yes,” the girl said firmly. “That’s what we’re doing.” The Wookie happily took that as the truth and Obi-Wan grumbled at such a blatant lie. He was a Jedi. And no matter what Bruck Chun said, he was going to be chosen by a master and become a Padawan. Speaking of a Padawan, Obi-Wan noticed Anakin at the corner of his eye. Anakin was thinking deeply as he looked out the window.

The taxi veered right and Anakin flinched and gasped aloud.

Padmé’s looked and she too gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

With such reactions, Obi-Wan had to fight against an immature instinct that begged to be spared from whatever the two had seen. But Obi-Wan dismissed such cowardly thoughts and looked as well. Obi-Wan froze and ribs caved in painfully as he soaked in the sight before him. It was the Jedi Temple. Scorched, abandoned and in ruins. Tears pricked Obi-Wan’s eyes as he gazed at the destroyed building that was his home.

Padmé fearfully wondered what had happened to cause such a travesty.

And Anakin realised with horror that, like Obi-Wan and Padmé, he too had travelled to a different time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Wookies probably cannot speak Basic but whatever this is fanfiction. I’m allowed to bend the rules a bit for a laugh. I mean, I thought it was kind of funny.

 “You kids gonna be okay?” the Wookie asked cautiously.

Anakin dropped the owed credits into the driver’s paw. “Um. Yeah.”

The Wookie tucked the credits away. “You’re looking a little sick. And the other boy… something wrong? I know it’s disturbing but –”

Padmé appeared from behind Anakin and pulled him away gently. She smiled softly at the Wookie. “Thank you for your help. Have a good day.” She waved mechanically as the taxi drove away and disappeared into the traffic. She bit her bottom lip before facing the destroyed Temple once again.

Ahead of her was Obi-Wan on his knees. Cradled in his hands was rubble so delicate a gust of wind crumbled it and carried it away. Obi-Wan’s glassy eyes followed the dust. He sniffed and swallowed thickly. It felt like something was lodged in his throat. Wood snapped as Anakin neared the other boy, bending down and offering a hand.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said quietly.

Obi-Wan stiffened, then sharply turned to Anakin. “Okay? How is … _this_ okay?”

Anakin shrank and hid his hands behind his back guiltily. “Sorry. I was just trying to help.”

The redheaded boy slouched and his anger dampened into misery. “No, I’m sorry. That was rude.” Obi-Wan thought of Master Yoda and the lines on his old face that hardened when disappointed with him. He picked up a jaggered piece of what was once a tall column and stood. Anakin followed him up. The boys recalled walking through the Temple’s entrance where the familiar columns were stationed like body guards to protect the Jedi inside. Now, it was as though the roles had reversed but the eleven-year-old boys felt helpless at the hands of those responsible for decimating their home.

“Hey.”

Padmé’s eyes reminded Obi-Wan of the soft browns in the creche quarters. He allowed the girl to take the column piece from him. Padmé offered them a sympathetic smile before returning the piece to the ground. “Maybe there’s someone around here who can tell us what happened,” she suggested.

The wind picked up and pricked the children’s eyes with dust. Anakin rubbed his face as he examined the area around him. He spotted a peculiar shape up ahead. He bounded towards it without any mind of the noise he was making. Obi-Wan cringed at the disturbance and Padmé called Anakin’s name. The blond boy only noticed the girl’s voice when he arrived at a cube shaped rock. It was decorated with an iron plate that was etched with an inscription. Heat warmed his ears as Anakin gestured the others over, hoping he could keep his literacy struggles hidden. To his luck, Padmé read the text as soon as she saw it.

“The Jedi Temple: On this day, the Jedi revealed themselves as traitors to the Republic and were vanquished by the armies of the newly established Empire. The efficacy and commitment to the Empire’s values were demonstrated by the strength and bravery of those who fought and defeated the traitorous Jedi. We remember them, and all those lost to the Jedi…” Padmé’s voice trickled away as the words and their meanings sank in.

Cautiously she turned to the boys. Their reactions tugged at Padmé’s heartstrings. She felt an overwhelming need to sweep them both into her arms and hold them tight. Obi-Wan was barely keeping his balance and shook like a leaf in high winds. His hands scrunched the material of his nightclothes into strangled balls. Anakin couldn’t focus on a single image. His eyes darted across the hellish landscape and micro-expressions flashed across his face as though he was watching and reacting to rapid images of the event take place. Padmé looked beyond them into the city landscape and furious questions arose: how could the Republic do such a thing to its guardians? And what is this so-called Empire?

Padmé read the inscription again, tracing the letters with her fingers. She stopped at the date. “Hey …um, you two need to look at this.”

Whilst Anakin did not look nearly as surprised as Padmé expected, Obi-Wan’s reaction was spot on. What had been their collective future was now their present.  

~o0o~

An incoming message beeped. Before a connection could be made Vader cut it off.

This was the fifth time the Emperor had attempted to contact his Sith apprentice. And the fifth time Vader had ignored it. The contents of the message could be predicted without the use of the Force. For years, Darth Sidious had rejected the importance of Kenobi and offered tasks beneficial for the Empire as a means of satisfying Vader’s thirst for vengeance. All it had done was distract the raging young Sith. For every Jedi Vader killed, it was another Jedi that wasn’t his old master. Only when the final remains of his life as Anakin Skywalker was gone could Vader finally exist as the one and only entity of the two that ever walked the galaxy.

Another beep.

Hijacking the Force, Vader crushed the communication devices. He veered the TIE fighter to the left and prepared for hyperspace. That morning he had awoken to feel Kenobi through their bond again. He was travelling through space. And also on Coruscant. Vader fumed over the trickery Kenobi was playing on their bond. He calculated that Kenobi would choose the most unlikely place to hide. Vader activated his TIE fighter and set off for Coruscant.

~o0o~

Anakin kicked a rock. It loudly skipped down the long stairway. “I don’t suppose it would be cliché of me to wish this was all a dream?”

Obi-Wan didn’t even look at him. Padmé answered quietly, “I wish so too. But I guess it would also be cliché of me to say that this clearly isn’t a dream.”

It took some time but eventually the children removed themselves from the remembrance stone. With the location only serving to darken once bright memories, Padmé decided for them that their mental health needed to recuperate elsewhere. The long stairway that bridged the Jedi Temple atop a tall platform to the busy streets seemed to latch onto the children like clingy partners. No matter how many steps they took, another ten more followed. Padmé began to wonder if this was how the Jedi trained their bodies to commit athletic feats. Then she grumpily bemoaned that the stair’s length was unfair to the boys, as though it was rubbing salt in the wound and refused to simply let them leave.

“Wait. Look,” Anakin said.

Padmé and Anakin halted. Obi-Wan walked a few more steps before he realised. “What?”

Anakin pointed further down. Stationed at a flat halfway point were two figures clad in white armour. They were still and silent to a degree it unnerved Obi-Wan. Padmé frowned at them. “I don’t like them. They look weird.”

“You never know,” Anakin replied innocently. “They could help us. They look friendly.”

Obi-Wan scoffed. “Do they? Really?”

“Look, they got weapons,” Padmé gasped. Anakin’s grin dropped.

“Okay, maybe they’d look friendlier if they were painted blue,” the boy admitted.

Obi-Wan glowered at him. “This is no time to joke!”

“Who says I’m joking?!” Anakin retorted, his heart pinching at the other boy’s tone.

Padmé was about to tell them to shut it when someone did it for her.

“Hey! You!”

All three kids froze. The armoured men had heard them. The one on the right took a few steps up towards them. “What’s going on here?”

The other stared at them before taking out a datapad and filing through a list of images. As Anakin and Padmé meekly mentioned school assignments and cranky teachers, Obi-Wan tried to decipher what the adult was looking at it. A sinking feeling landed in his stomach when the man paused at a particular image, glanced at the children then placed the datapad in a pouch beside his weapon.

Then the Force rang loudly in his ears. Time seemed to slow and clarify the image of the man’s gloved hand reaching for his weapon. Dark intents poisoned the Force around him. Fear was neglected as Obi-Wan kicked off from the stairs and launched at the man. Time returned to normal when the small body hit the armour. Everything became a blur as Obi-Wan and the soldier rolled down the stairs, the boy’s youthful skin battered and blistered along the way. Only when they slowed did Obi-Wan notice his injuries. He tossed them aside at the soldier’s groan. He checked on Anakin and Padmé to see them gaping at him.

With the Force still screeching, Obi-Wan cried, “Get away! We need to –!”

“Soldier! They’re Jedi younglings! Get –” Obi-Wan kicked the man in the face.

Further up, Anakin could now hear the Force’s warnings as though he had pulled the cotton from his ears. Panic erupted when the soldier grasped the laser gun and Anakin shot a hand out, garnering enough Force energy to fling the enemy away. The weapon was abandoned but found ownership by Padmé who shakily held it in her small hands. Although lacking in confidence, Anakin could tell Padmé had handled a weapon of this variety before. She heard a fist smashed a cheek below, then aimed and fired at the soldier attacking Obi-Wan. It hit the shoulder. Invigorated by his previous success, Anakin called upon the Force again to hurl the injured soldier away. The two ran up to Obi-Wan. Blood seeped from his nostrils and his cheek was already bruising. Anakin wanted to punch, high-five and hug Obi-Wan all in one go so he opted to simply exclaimed, “That was wizard! How did you know they were bad?”

“The Force, duh,” Obi-Wan replied. He pulled himself together, putting on a casual façade that was ruined by the blood dripping off his chin. Padmé cringed at the display.  

“We need to get out of here,” she said, her voice high-strung. “They’ll probably send for reinforcements. And this is heavy,” she added with a scowl weighing the weapon.

“Can I have it?” Anakin asked.

“No,” Padmé said shortly.

“Oh, alright…” Anakin gleefully collected the datapad that had fallen from the soldier’s pouch. “I’m having this instead. It’s much better than that boring blaster.”

“Come _on_ already,” Obi-Wan sighed loudly, grabbing their hands and dragging them along. “In case you guys haven’t noticed already, we’re in danger!”

The children were close to the street when something blazing hot shot above their heads. A few unfortunate hairs were fried and all three children scrambled for cover. Padmé scraped her knee and whimpered when she noticed the scorched mark where a blaster bullet had struck. She was hauled to her feet roughly and pulled along by Anakin’s surprisingly iron grip. Looking over her shoulder, Padmé could see Obi-Wan close behind her, along with the two soldiers racing down the stairs. They disappeared when the children dived into the bustling crowd. The tall and firm bodies of busy adults with little care for younglings were impenetrable. Padmé, Anakin and Obi-Wan were squished and bashed around like ping-pong balls. It then hit her that while she and Anakin had a hold of each other, Obi-Wan was not.

“Obi-Wan!” she cried, stretching out her hand. Her heart skipped a beat when she failed to find the redheaded boy straight away. It relaxed when Obi-Wan shoved past two offended adults and latched onto her hand. Their exchanging smiles warmed the mood only briefly before fired shots rang close by.

Looking up, Anakin could see the red lasers projecting light onto the crowd. People scattered like cockroaches discovered in a kitchen. The soldiers barked for obedience under the order of the Empire. The total disregard for smaller beings worsened. Obi-Wan’s already throbbing face flared when an adult accidentally rammed an elbow into him. It was only the squeeze of Padmé’s hand and Anakin’s voice continuously rambling that he knew where to go, that kept Obi-Wan’s building panic sealed. “Here, I got it! I got it!” Anakin could feel it in the Force.

The younglings rounded a corner and zoomed down an alleyway. Padmé flinched when her slippers splashed through a muddy puddle. Mud sprang onto the children’s legs. As though an obstacle course, Anakin led his companions through a collection of supply boxes, construction and mountains of garbage bags. Much to their chagrin, a pile of garbage was unable to support their weight, and they sank like rocks in the ocean. It didn’t take long to get out but in Obi-Wan’s opinion, the damage was already done. Eventually, the bombastic noises of a terrorised crowd and furious enemies subsided to the sound of feet smacking against the ground. The children refused to let each other go even when the adrenaline diminished, and they began to notice their sweaty hands and bodies, the smell of Obi-Wan’s blood, and the overall grimy feeling of the dark alleyway that had slipped into a silent wasteland during their long escape.

It was then the adrenaline was no longer able to hide their exhaustion. Obi-Wan was the first to drop. His injuries demanded attention. As Padmé examined Obi-Wan’s face, Anakin collected bits of pieces of abandoned items around them. Padmé unhappily informed her companion, “I don’t really know what to do. We don’t have any first aid. Jedi can heal with the Force, right?”

Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek. “Yeah but that’s advanced stuff. Only senior padawans have the skills and temperament to do that. I’ll be fine.”

Anakin discovered a torn maroon coloured blanket. He unwrapped it and waved dust off it before positioning it on top of two make-shift poles. One was a piece of wood sticking out from the ground and another was a stack of empty crates. Anakin lay flat carboard boxes to create a floor. He thanked his lucky stars when he found frazzled cotton used for air vents. He stacked it the best he could against the back wall inside, the alleyway’s wall was stone cold without the material. Once Anakin was done he turned to Obi-Wan and Padmé.

Both stared at him strangely. To Anakin, surprise and impressed looked funny on their faces. “I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do,” he said.

“No, it’s …fine,” Obi-Wan murmured.

Padmé’s lips curled. “It looks great.” Anakin’s heart soared.

Padmé’s smile did not last. She hummed thoughtfully. “Those men though…how did they know you were Jedi?”

Obi-Wan folded his arms. “One of them was looking at pictures on his datapad. He probably figured it out from that.”

“What were the pictures?” Padmé queried.

“Here,” Anakin said holding out the datapad he’d stolen. He had switched it on and was immediately brought to the list of images last observed. The children’s nerves frayed as they looked at the visual guide for identifying Jedi including the hairstyles of all species and the uniforms of all ages and activities. “I think our nighties gave us away,” Anakin concluded.

“Don’t call our nightclothes ‘nighties’,” Obi-Wan groaned. “How old you, five?”

“What month were you born?” Anakin asked. When Obi-Wan replied after a pause, Anakin grinned, “Older than you.”

Padmé cut off Obi-Wan’s incoming remark. “If it was the clothes that gave us away then we need to find new ones soon. And your haircut, Anakin. Can you cut it?”

Anakin baulked. “No way! My braid is important!” He clung onto the braid defensively. Obi-Wan eyed it and vowed to have a braid of his own too. Then he could stop feeling so jealous.

“Then you’ll have to cover it up somehow,” Padmé said. “If not, then it’s got to go.”

“But –”

“–I am not getting shot just cause you want to look pretty!”

“Hey!” Anakin snapped. “My braid is the connection between my master and I. I can’t get rid of it. I _won’t_ get rid of it. I’ll find a way to hide it. Okay?!”

“…Okay,” Padmé and Obi-Wan muttered. Anakin’s aggression soothed and he offered them an apologetic smile.

Although night was many hours away, the children felt ready to drop. One by one they crept into their odd tent. Anakin used the end of the blanket-roof to roll down and hide them away inside. With minimal space, Anakin had to draw his growing limbs in rather than splay them out like he does in his quarters. Although eyelids were heavy, sleep seemed far away now that his whole body was uncomfortable in its unusual position. Cardboard was hardly a satisfactory replacement to Padmé’s goose feathered mattress and numerous pillows. She knew her thoughts echoed those of a selfish princess but after today’s events, she gladly accepted that title and the misery it brought with it. Obi-Wan didn’t know Anakin and Padmé very well but gladly sought comfort in their company. He was used to the shared quarters of the creche where every night ended with a chorus of goodnights and giggling. Obi-Wan never partook in such childish behaviour for he was more mature than that, but now in this silent tent, he never felt a stronger pull to make a ruckus. But he stayed quiet. They all did. Neither admitted it to each other but all wished to awaken in their beds again.

~o0o~

With the lunch rush finished and the crew fed, Old Ben secured an isolated room to meditate.

As he sank into the Force he inspected the bond again. It felt like staring into a dark corner at other end of a trapped room. Ben retreated and searched for something else. He then felt like a fisherman, casting a line out into the troubled sea. He sat and waited. Waited. Waited. No bite. It took all of his experience to keep his old temper from childhood at bay. It was just like his old master to keep him waiting.

Master Yoda had said that Jinn was reachable. That Jinn could be contacted.

Yet after ten years there was still no sign of his old master. Instead, Old Ben had rediscovered Vader. He bitterly pondered on the cruelty of the galaxy at times before once again dismissing such trivial and childish emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I can't believe the great response this story got. Just wow! Thanks SO MUCH guys!  
> And I'm super glad you like it MissLearn! Thank goodness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ BEFORE READING! Made a mistake! This story is not set seven years but ten years after the fall of the Republic. Made the changes in the summary too.

Rumours never take long to spread.

With Darth Vader at the helm of the Empire’s organised efforts to eliminate remaining Jedi, reports came in early to him confirming the story. With the reappearance of his old master, Vader concluded that this was no coincidence. Kenobi was on Coruscant to rescue Jedi younglings.

Foolish. Vader would kill all of them.

.

.

.

.

Anakin awoke with a headache.

Shifting slightly, he felt his muscles groan after being rolled up for so long. Desperate to stretch his limbs, Anakin shredded his drowsiness and sat up. Padmé and Obi-Wan were still fast asleep. He wouldn’t say Padmé was sleeping soundly with her forehead wrinkled with worry, but she appeared to be faring better than Obi-Wan. Anakin considered shaking the boy awake for he was curled up in a quivering ball. The words murmured under his breath were indistinguishable but judging by his hitching breaths, his dreams were disturbing. Anakin reached out to touch Obi-Wan’s shoulder but recalled the snap in the boy’s tone and every eyeroll sent Anakin’s way whenever he talked. The last thing Anakin wanted was to be shamed again so he ignored the guilt clawing at his heart and left the tent.

The surrounding alleyway was as dark as ever. Anakin felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He was used to Tatooine’s honest natural landscape. By day, the sun was relentless and scorching. At night, the sky was black and bodies had to bundle together to preserve warmth. On Coruscant, its landscape was far more secretive. Anakin recalled his master claiming Coruscant to be the perfect planet for politicians. Anakin’s smile fell when the memory of his master was burnt out by a flash of hot fury. It disappeared as quickly as it came. However, it left behind a grim reminder of the dream he awoke from…

Anakin’s stomach grumbled. As he searched through scattered rubbish, he pondered on the swarm of intense emotions and fuzzy images residing in his dream. Nightmares weren’t a new experience for Anakin. His previous owner had been the centre of many dark dreams, however something about the latest one felt simultaneously foreign and familiar.

These thoughts took a backseat when he found a tiny plant with red berries growing out a crack. He counted four berries. One for each of them with the last a secret just between him and the bush. It reminded Anakin of Tatooine’s own rare and nutritional red berried plants. Then a memory of his mother’s disappointment catching him red-handed, both figurately and literally from the berries’ juices, made him pause and think. As she had wiped her son’s hands she explained the one strength slaves had against their owners was their sense of community. When profits were low and disgruntled slavers grew bitter, help from fellow slaves could mean the difference between life and death. The community thrived on sharing resources and wise information. Anakin picked the berries before him, hoping perhaps a thin stick could cut the fourth one into thirds.

Anakin’s stomach moaned again. Just as Anakin opened his mouth to consume his share something behind him crunched. Swivelling around, Anakin laid eyes upon a lone figure standing before a cloud of steam flowing from a pipe. “Don’t eat those kids,” the stranger said, her voice distorted by a helmet. “You’ll be watching Ewoks dance the cha-cha if you take even one bite –”

Anakin screamed.

And the Force lurched. As though a small bomb detonated, the Force sprang out from Anakin and barrelled into the stranger. The stranger, as she was flung back, briefly thought to herself that she had clearly seen better days. Meanwhile, the Force tore apart the tent in a flurry. Anakin jumped from one emotion to the next. First, he felt immense pride for his abilities and driving off the stranger. Then, Obi-Wan’s lectures on control came back to haunt him. Lastly, a prickle of guilt when he heard gasping and coughing to his left. In the mess that had once been a tent Padmé and Obi-Wan stared gobsmacked.

“Oh, sorry,” Anakin mumbled. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Obi-Wan huffed. “‘Waking up’? Bit of an understatement.”

“Oh stop it,” Padmé shoved Obi-Wan down to push herself up. She inspected Anakin’s ashy face and was about to demand an explanation when someone spoke.

“Wait, don’t panic!”

The children panicked.

One moment the stranger was desperately attempting to get a hundred words out in a second. The next she was unconscious. Padmé was breathing heavily, still holding onto one of the many items she had been tossing at the intruder. Anakin was on the ground, his legs a little sore but that was the price one paid to knock someone’s balance over. Obi-Wan lowered his make-shift weapon. The tall wooden pole used to prop up the tent had stubbornly wanted to remain in the ground but Obi-Wan had found the strength to uproot it and apply it like it was a training sabre. Padmé frowned at Obi-Wan, then the fallen individual, then back at Obi-Wan. “What? Did you kill her?”

Padmé doubted she would ever see Obi-Wan look so offended again. “Excuse me?” he gaped. “Jedi don’t kill unless we absolutely have to.”

Anakin hummed thoughtfully, standing up. “Did you absolutely have to there?”

“No! She’s not –” Obi-Wan sighed in frustration, dropped his weapon and moved over to the stranger. “See? She’s breathing.”

Padmé and Anakin drew closer. Hands on her knees, Padmé peered at the armour their attacker was wearing. It was almost completely hidden under a long brown cloak. But enough was visible for its origin to dawn on Padmé. “She’s Mandalorian!”

Anakin snorted at her like she was being silly. “Yeah, of course! That’s why I kicked her extra hard.”

Looking mildly embarrassed Padmé muttered. “I didn’t… realise it. I was distracted by what she was saying.”

Obi-Wan’s expression matched Anakin’s and Padmé couldn’t help but think they were teasing her. “You should be more focused,” the redheaded boy lectured. “That’s what the masters always say. If you let your mind wander then you allow it to be deceived.”

“Whatever,” Padmé said crossing her arms.

Anakin tapped the stranger’s helmet. “What did she say?”

“Something about working for someone,” Padmé answered thinking hard. “Madalorians are bounty hunters. I bet she works for this so-called Empire.” She gave the helmet an experimental nudge as well.

Obi-Wan swatted their hands away. “Stop it, you could wake her,” he reprimanded. “… How much could we possibly be worth though?”

“Probably a lot,” Padmé said.

Anakin grumbled, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “Pardon us if we’re concerned with the amount of bounty hunters after us. If we’re worth a lot then –”

“–Then we just need to run, big deal, I could have told you that,” Anakin interrupted. He could almost hear the steam billowing off Obi-Wan as he checked the Mandalorian again. Something glimmered and captured his attention. Attached to a belt was thread tied to a metal plate the size of his palm. Engraved on it was a symbol. It was pretty. And Anakin wanted it. He pulled and the thread snapped off the belt.

Turning back, he saw Padmé holding the stolen holopad. “Another souvenir?” she asked.

“Yep.” To Anakin’s delight Padmé smiled. Thinking of another idea to impress her, Anakin began to untie the cloak from the Mandalorian. He showed off an inside pocket. “We can put the holopad in here, and I can wear this to hide my braid.”

Padmé laughed softly. “It’s so long though. You’ll trip.”

“Catch me then,” Anakin said. The seriousness in his face and tone caught Padmé off-guard.

Loud clattering ended their moment. Obi-Wan pulled from the rubble the material used on the tent. He wrapped it around himself, feeling it slip down his right shoulder in a way he knew would annoy him after a few minutes. However, Obi-Wan called upon Master Yoda’s lessons of priority verses personal grievances. The life of a Jedi was not a comfortable one so he best get used to it now. Much to his utter humiliation his stomach informed everyone in close proximity that it was hungry.

“I don’t need food, I’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan said quickly.

The three began to walk down the alleyway further away from the Mandalorian and into the shadows. Padmé replied, “Really? Cause I’m certainly hungry.” She patted her nightgown’s pocket and something inside jingled. “We still got credits left over from my hairpins.”

“Will that even be enough for all of us?”

Anakin shrugged. “If we get desperate enough I’m sure we’ll find some bugs to eat.”

“Ew what? No!”

“Absolutely not! I would never! How could you even suggest –!?”

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! I won’t mention it again!”

~o0o~

Old Ben leaned against the wall and breathed deeply.

Whoever was controlling the ship was either incompetent or buzzed with alcohol. Either option did nothing to quell the nausea bubbling away. Already, the strenuous meditation had left Ben with a blistering headache. The bumpy ride was not helping but a smooth sail would have done little to ease the pain. The cogs in his head were running full speed as he debated with himself.

Anakin had always been stronger than him.

If the Jedi were blindfolded and trained to learn the Force through other senses, then Anakin was born with his eyesight undisturbed. The battle on Mustafar had proven sheer raw strength in the Force did not guarantee success and holding such a belief ignored Anakin’s other qualities. However, in times such as now Old Ben found that being on the receiving end of such power was trying. He simply could not compare.

When the bond had brightened Ben had immediately closed his end off. Although Vader was unable to pinpoint his exact location, his immense Force sensitivity could still gather a vague understanding of Ben’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, Ben’s lacking powers had no clue where Vader was and he was not willing to risk revealing his end of the bond to find out.

The ship shook again. Slipping down to the floor Ben rubbed his temples. The Force helped to sooth the pain but Ben found a small part of him rejecting it. He bitterly wondered why the Force behaved in such a way to favour others based on a midichlorian count. It felt eerily similar to his old master performing the same stunt before the Council many, _many_ years ago. Ashamed with the ease such shameful thoughts crossed his mind, Ben berated his immaturity. Opinions like that had never helped him.

All that mattered now was staying as far as possible from every remaining Skywalker in the galaxy.

~o0o~

Padmé carefully considered her order from the menu. Delicious smells wafted from the kitchen behind the front counter and made Padmé’s mouth water. Calculating the amount of money and the prices, she chose her meal and asked the boys what they wanted.

Before Anakin could answer, Obi-Wan said, “We’re really eating here?”

“What’s wrong with the Biscuit Baron?” Anakin asked, perplexed.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Beyond this establishment’s lack of basic hygiene –I mean, really, look at these tables! –the piles of moosh I would scarcely call ‘food’ is crammed with unhealthy sugars.”

“…So?” Anakin said.

Padmé admittedly understood where Obi-Wan was coming from. Her grand life on Naboo always provided her with the healthiest options prepared by either her parents or a trained chef. Resorting to a fast-food chain had Padmé realise that she was scraping the bottom of the barrel. Her hunger however dismissed this.

Obi-Wan was not yet willing to accept the gravity of their dismal situation and stoop so low. “What do you mean ‘so’? Think of the creche masters or your master. Would they ever let us eat such revolting food and destroy our health?”

Anakin perked up. “My master lets us eat food like this sometimes. He said he’s going to bring me to a place called Dex’s Diner for my birthday.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well start believing.”

“Boys,” Padmé groaned. “Just pick a meal or I’m picking for you.”

“You can pick a meal for me then!” Obi-Wan snapped.

In a few minutes, Obi-Wan scowled at his miserable looking salad. Padmé and Anakin snacked on their crispy, greasy but tasty meals. Padmé gave Obi-Wan a mischievous grin. “Enjoying your meal, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan’s glare intensified and Anakin laughed, choking on his soft drink.

When tempers simmered, the trio snacked on their food in silence. Chattering customers competed with the galaxy’s top 100 songs blasting from the speakers. It was an assault on the ears but each of the children were used to ruckus in some way –from dinner time in the creche, to cramped sleeping slave quarters and to boisterous political meetings. The floor was coated with a layer of hardened grease and sugar, then decorated with another layer of fallen rubbish. Many feet were foiled and every time someone fell the restaurant burst into a chorus of exclamations as though it had become a tradition. It made all three of the children flinch the first time it happened.

“So,” Padmé began, scratching the itchy but healing scab on her knee. “I don’t think Coruscant is the safest place for us to be, especially you two. We should go to Naboo where we’ll be safe.”

Obi-Wan placed his plastic fork down, his face scrunched up in concentration. Anakin nodded and said, “That’s sounds good but –”

“–Ew, Anakin.”

“–Don’t talk with your mouth full!”

Anakin’s jaw got cracking and soon enough his mouth was empty. “How are we supposed to get off planet when we’re being hunted after?”

“Good point,” Obi-Wan murmured.

Padmé swirled a chip in Biscuit Baron’s famous blue sauce. “I don’t know yet. I just don’t think we should remain on Coruscant any longer.”

“Maybe we should though,” Obi-Wan challenged, his tone respectful. “Coruscant is huge. It has thousands of levels we can hide in.”

“Hide and then what though?” said Anakin.

Padmé and Obi-Wan struggled to answer. Returning home felt so far away.  

Later found the children traversing through the dark streets of underground Corsucant. Buildings on top of buildings on top of more buildings replaced the sky. The streetlights were hazy and ineffective against the oppressive darkness. To Padmé’s concern, some were not only out of electricity but dusty as well. It had been some time since this place saw any attention. Even the residents gave it little thought. The three children were the only ones around on the long stretch of road. Their breathing and footsteps sounded too loud as it echoed across the large chamber. Noticing a distance between herself and the boys, Padmé caught up to them, running on her tiptoes to soften the noise.

Anakin stopped. “Wait.”

“What?” Obi-Wan said.

“…I can feel something in the Force,” Anakin explained. “Up there.”

Without asking, the three lowered their volume further. They hugged up against the buildings and crept along. Just as they were nearing a corner, male voices sounded. Padmé jumped at their sudden introduction. She tugged at the boys’ cloaks to move back but Obi-Wan shook his head and Anakin only drew closer to listen. Hearing ‘Jedi younglings’ ‘bounty’ and ‘find them’ was enough for Padmé to insist harder, sending the boys a furious expression at their dangerous antics. Relenting, Obi-Wan and Anakin moved away following Padmé’s direction. They scouted out a corridor narrow enough to provide a sense of security and –

The Force blared. Anakin dropped to the ground and a blaster bullet exploded against a wall. In a storm of fear and panic the children bolted down the corridor shoving garbage bins to the ground in hopes of increasing the gap between them and their shouting pursuers. Up ahead Padmé spotted fluorescent lights and faint music tempted her eardrums. The empty alleyway turned onto a main street busy with bars and restaurants. While not overcrowded like the high-end streets on the planet’s top level, there was enough room for the children to hide in and slither through. Their chasers refused to let them off the hook. Hearing their bellowing voices, Obi-Wan made a panic-ridden decision and herded his companions into a popular bar.

“What are you –?”

“Finding a staff room to hide in,” Obi-Wan snapped over Anakin. “Now help me!”

Padmé bumped into a woman wrapped a dress made from rose petals. Its pink hue looked beautiful until a blue cocktail was drenched all over it. Having an eye and deep appreciation for fashion Padmé blurted out many apologies as Anakin dragged her away. The decorated woman was stuck between bewilderment and disdain.

Obi-Wan excused himself as he swam through the human tide. Desperation found the front bar and stools but curiosity had Obi-Wan note the numerous pretty coloured drinks as he moved to the hiding spot. With all the adults focused on the jazz music, their company, the drinks or all three at once, the children bent down and shuffled behind the bar without anyone noticing. Just as Anakin tucked his foot in, the door to the establishment was slammed open in such an aggressive fashion it made the occupants pause. Before getting back to the party.

At the end of the bar Obi-Wan saw the mixologist, a Besalisk. Its four meaty arms danced in an entertaining flurry as he prepared and poured up to eight drinks in one go. The crowd gasped and awed in delight and the Besalisk gave a jolly laugh. Obi-Wan knew the creche masters would be unimpressed with him, but his curiosity for this party and drinking culture only grew.

“Hey,” Anakin whispered urgently. “Move further down. They’re heading this way.”

Padmé shuddered. Uncertain of the Besalisk’s reactions if they were spotted, Obi-Wan begrudgingly moved along centimetre by centimetre. Until Padmé and Anakin joined forces and collided into him. Obi-Wan was about to return the favour but was hauled back against the bar by the other two. A hand smacked the counter above them. “Oi! Can I get some service around here!?”

The children froze. Anakin shut his eyes, Padmé’s hand covered her mouth, and Obi-Wan helplessly made eye contact with the Besalisk when he turned around. Half a second ticked, and the Besalisk addressed the bounty hunter wiping his hands. “What can I do for you? Want to hear our special cocktail for tonight and tonight only? It’s called the Bloody Vader. Let me tell you what’s in it –”

“–Seen a bunch of kids around?”

The Besalisk snorted. “Unfortunately, yeah. Stupid kids and their underage drinking.”

A second bounty hunter sighed. His deeper voice growled, “Then surely you don’t have a problem with us inspecting your …respectable establishment?”

The short time the Besalisk thought it over was the longest and most agonising wait the children. When the Besalisk finally answered the trio visibly relaxed as he said “Sure,” and the bounty hunters moved away. Anakin flashed the alien a wide smile in gratitude. The Besalisk did not offer them an answer. Instead he called out for a replacement. Then he opened a nearby door.

“In here,” the Besalisk muttered.

Frantic to escape, the children bumped and bashed into each other along the way. Obi-Wan hit the floor and Anakin climbed over him. Padmé was the first through but her journey reopened the scab on her bruised knee. Hissing at the pain and the trickling blood, Padmé sat on soft chair to take the weight off her injury. The door closed with the children and Besalisk inside. The music and chatter outside was still obnoxiously loud as though the walls were made from paper. Padmé hardly saw the point in the beds provided. Anakin looked ready to adopt the top spot on the bunkbed when the Besalisk laid a large hand on his head and pulled the cloak off.

Anakin’s braid swayed like a pendulum.

“I don’t know how or why Jedi younglings such as yourselves are here on Coruscant,” the Besalisk said gruffly. “But you need to get away as soon as possible.”

The children tensed. Padmé gritted her teeth. “We know. Any idea _how_ though?”

“Yes, I …” the Besalisk stopped and stared at Padmé, flesh rolling on his forehead to indicate a frown. Unease and confusion rose as Padmé realised neither of the boys could see what the Besalisk could. Their worry increased when the Besalisk saw the same invisible thing on the boys as well.

“What?” Padmé demanded.

The Besalisk blinked. “Uh, sorry, you …remind me of someone. All of you…” he cleared his throat to clear away the awkwardness. “Anyway, the name’s Dex.” Recalling the name, Anakin’s mouth fell but he and the others kept their lips sealed. Dex did not press them but added with a quiet and reassuring tone, “I’m with the Rebellion. They’ll help you. They’ll do anything to stop the Empire.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan shared their surprise while Padmé’s eyes gleamed, her mind conjuring romantic images of revolutions inspired by her political history books. She acted on behalf of the boys and gave Dex a firm nod and relieved smile. “May we stay here then? For safety?” she asked harping back to her negotiation lessons.

“Course you can,” Dex said, three of his limbs relaxing and the fourth scratching his neck. “I got to get back to work though. Busy out there. I’ll order you some food and bring it to you. _And_ I’ll contact the Rebel Alliance. They’ll know what to do.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Padmé.

Only once Dex left was Padmé’s decision challenged. “How do you know we can trust him?” Obi-Wan asked twisting and untwisting the bottom of his nightshirt.

Anakin breezily trotted over to the bunkbed. “The Force didn’t have a problem with Dex. So, I trust him. Didn’t you hear the Force too?”

Obi-Wan’s ears heated under Anakin and Padmé’s stare. “No, I mean –alright. Fine. Whatever.”

Pleased that hurdle was done with, Padmé settled on the bed tucked in the right corner of the room as the boys’ discussion on their bed choice grew louder. Anakin’s grip on the ladder was loosened when Obi-Wan used his body weight to pull him down.

“Why should you have it?” Anakin moaned.

“It’s right by a window,” Obi-Wan justified with a level of snootiness that bothered Anakin immensely. “I can make sure no one suspicious arrives in case Dex is lying.”

“He’s not lying,” Anakin countered.

Padmé rolled her eyes. “Just admit you want the view.”

“I _don’t –_ ”

“–Yeah, you do,” Anakin jeered, then scrambled to the top. “It’s mine! I got it!”

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was feeling too nostalgic to stay in the others’ company. A logical voice in his head that sounded an awful lot like Master Yoda reasoned that Anakin and Padmé weren’t in any way similar to Bruck Chun or his lackeys. However, an emotional part of him still untamed much to his frustration, pleaded to get out of the stuffy hot room. Obi-Wan’s retreat to the door went unnoticed as Anakin and Padmé talked but questions sparked once he turned the knob.

“Just going out.”

“What? You’re leaving,” Anakin asked fretfully.

“ _No_ , Force,” Obi-Wan rubbed his temples. “I’m just going to look around the bar.”

Anakin leapt off the top bunk to chase after Obi-Wan but the door was slammed in his face.

“It’s fine,” Padmé insisted. “Dex won’t let him past the bar.”

Dejectedly, Anakin toyed with the doorknob. “I think I’ll join him. Just to make sure he’s safe.”

“Wait, Anakin!” Padmé hopped off her bed. Her stern disposition took Anakin by surprise. “There’s something I want to talk about.”

“What?”

Padmé ran over the numerous speeches she had written and edited in her head throughout the afternoon. Despite finalising and preparing for this moment she felt like walking into an exam without having studied. None of her rigorous lessons had content relating to abrupt time travelling but many of her heroes took great risks in order to achieve their goals. So Padmé dived. “This morning …when we woke up. You said something. About me.”

Anakin frowned. “Uh yeah, I did …what did I say?”

Padmé stepped closer. “Oh, something about crazy make-up and Coruscant. Either way, you made something very clear to me then. But I was only able to really see it after the Temple. After I had the chance to think about it.”

“I don’t …what do you mean?”

“ _Anakin_. How do you know me?”

~o0o~

“ _I’m close by. Just take care of them until I get there._ ”

Dex handed the required liquor to his co-worker. “Yeah,” he answered into the commlink. “Already doing that.”

Little did he know that one of the children had snuck past his gaze and beyond the safe zone. Further away amongst the crowd was Obi-Wan judging the cocktails by their visuals. The Kriff on the Beach cocktail was by far the most dazzling with its yellow bubbles frothing in pink liquid. It smelt like muja and Obi-Wan’s mouth watered. Back at the creche, fruit was the healthy snack for younglings between major meals and Obi-Wan always chose muja. The only downside was the juice on his hands afterwards. Obi-Wan noticed the drink was ignored by the guests. He reached towards it, imagining the glass would prevent any stickiness.

With the glass touching his lips, Obi-Wan considered his creche masters and their disappointment in his silly behaviour. However, the redheaded boy bitterly remembered that they were always upset with him in some way. Shrugging and indulging in curiosity, Obi-Wan took only an experimental sip before sliding the glass away innocently. The muja flavour was enticing but a stinging slap in the face Obi-Wan figured must be the alcohol ruined the whole experience. Looking around, none of the drinks looked so appealing anymore.

Obi-Wan took a step and fumbled.

Everything in the room doubled –no, tripled. He rubbed his eyes but this only flared the nerves around his face and an uncomfortable static feeling travelled down his body. The Force sounded like it was calling for him from the other side of a long bridge. The thought of Anakin and Padmé and the relief their company brought encouraged Obi-Wan enough to shove his feet forward. But a wave of nausea hit him and all his energy was sucked dry.

He was lifted up.

And carried away.

Obi-Wan’s eyelids felt like they were gluing together. He tried to struggle against the person holding him but to no avail. The bar had transformed into a splatter of mismatched colours. Obi-Wan only knew he had left it when the colours darkened and the outside breeze felt too cold against his burning skin. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if someone informed him his tongue had abandoned him as he tried to utter words. The only one of his senses that had yet to give up was his hearing. To compensate, his enhanced hearing picked up every slur and sound coming from the men taking him.

It also picked up a blaster bolt.

A cry, a groan and a body hit the ground. Obi-Wan was unceremoniously dropped. He ached but his muscles refused to move. His blurred vision watched a blotch of grey slam into another. After a series of punches, the newcomer approached Obi-Wan.

“Those berries can be a killer.”

A flash of panic as he recognised the voice. It was the Mandalorian.

“Hey, little guys, it’s alright. I got you,” she said, cradling Obi-Wan in her arms. “I’m with the Rebellion.” Then to tie the knot, she leaned closer and whispered into Obi-Wan’s ears. “My name is Nina. I work directly for Fulcrum.”

That was the last Obi-Wan heard before he lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always do this. I plan a chapter thinking it won't be long but then it gets long anyway! Like, god dammit Evie, calm down!
> 
> Nina is an OC that is going to be the bridge between the kids and other Star Wars characters. But she'll provide some entertainment in the meantime.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys. You know when you’re trying to write but the words just aren’t coming. Yeah, I had that problem. Then I went to see a band which totally trashed me. I love socialising but it drains me. But yeah, REAL SORRY if the writing ain’t that great in this chapter.

Old Ben Kenobi left the ship still feeling queasy in the stomach.

He offered the captain a gracious smile but sent an unimpressed glare to the pilot. Then he moved on. The sky was dismal and the streets were putting their all to compete with it. Everything smelt in such a way that reminded Ben of a mission long ago with a Duchess, a tiny closet and alcohol-fuelled bar, but amplified to such a degree it made his eyes water. It made him long for the dry scentless lands of Tatooine and the comfort of watching a carefree boy running along the sandy horizon. It made him long for the days as a Padawan where the fragrance of his master’s potted plants soothed his anxiety as soon as walked through the door.

Ben made a turn and wrapped the cloak around his tighter. Those days were long, _long_ gone and only those containing miserable memories were making the effort to catch up to him.  

~o0o~

“Don’t you have something to tell me?”

The key hovered before the lock. “…I don’t know what you–”

“–You know exactly what I mean,” she interrupted. “What’s happened?”

He faces his associate. Only the barest hint of her was visible underneath the sweeping brown cloak. A generous offering in comparison to the shadows and distorted voices messaging him over the course of their dealings. This left him juggling between curiosity of this woman’s identity and fearing the ramifications of knowing such details. Ever since the initial meeting he was unable to carry through a conversation without a feeling of spiders crawling up his spine. Looking back, he gloomily wondered how he thought she wouldn’t notice.

“…Look…” his voice cracked. “Things got …complicated.”

“Yes, I can tell,” she said crossing her arms. “But, complicated enough to betray me?”

His eyes widened. “No, wait!” he leaned against the door. “It’s not that. It’s just – they found out. I-I don’t know how. But, look, they’re threatening my family. What else am I supposed to –?”

Despite everything, his panic softened when she laid a hand on his shoulder. She was close enough that he could just see a smile surrounded by white markings on orange skin. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll handle this. But you need to take your family and go.”

“O-okay. Okay,” he nodded his head frantically.

She stepped back. “My target. Are they in there? Or…?”

“They’re there. The uh –” he cleared his throat. Then whispered, “The sabres are there. I promise. If you don’t get them tonight then they’re the Empire’s.”

“Got it,” she answered. “Stay here.”

She crouched low before launching high into the air. Despite the power in her jump, barely a sound was made when she landed on the roof. Crawling across and her senses stretching out, she identified three individuals inside the building. Further along the roof were four rows of pyramid skylights. She drew close and peered inside: a Falleen, a Human and a Twi’lek. Each clothed in rags reflecting their bounty hunter professions. Each equipped with weaponry. Each hardly worth the effort.

She pulled from her belt two sabres, her thumbs caressed their activation buttons. Below, the Twi’lek growled and complained loudly about her accomplice wasting their time. She smirked, and prepared herself. “Time for some fun,” she murmured.

~o0o~

Upon awakening, a stained ceiling greeted Obi-Wan.

Along with a light too bright for his stinging eyeballs. Blotches of green followed his sight as Obi-Wan relied on visuals to explain where he was. Not much luck. With his body feeling like it was made from cement, he gave up and extended his other senses. Voices mumbled in the background but a commlink with bad reception would be more understandable at this rate, thanks to his fuzzy feeling ears. Raised in the Temple where illness was a rarity, Obi-Wan miserably wished his body would fix itself already. His shoulders seized as he flinched.

Anakin’s face appeared. “You’re awake!” he turned over his shoulder. “Padmé! Obi-Wan’s awake!” His voice slowly grew louder, and smooth jazz music from the bar could be heard oozing through the thin walls.

“I’ll go tell Nina,” came a determined response. Anakin grumbled and Obi-Wan shifted on the bed as the door was opened and closed.

“…Wait. What?”

“You were drugged,” Anakin explained. “You were actually drugged. Can’t believe you fell for that.”

Obi-Wan huffed. “Everyone was drinking. I thought it would be safe. Enough.”

Anakin snorted. He crawled behind Obi-Wan’s head and rearranged the pillows. “I guess but mum always told me to never drink what you haven’t served yourself.”

Obi-Wan cringed at the stiffness of his neck as he looked up. “Your mum? You know your mum?”

“…Yeah,” Anakin said softly. Then went back to cheerful chattiness. “Don’t try to change the subject. You should be thanking the Force things didn’t get any worse.”

Then, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Anakin hooked his hands under Obi-Wan’s shoulders and dragged the boy up. Obi-Wan bit down on his tongue to hold back a whimper. His whole body might as well have been solid stone for a hundred years suddenly been forced to move. He sagged in relief when he was propped up on the pillows. Anakin shuffled to Obi-Wan’s side wearing the kind of grin that reminded Obi-Wan of Quinlan and that was never a good sign.

“That’s twice now,” Anakin finally said.

Frowning, Obi-Wan replied, “Twice what?”

Anakin snickered. “That I’ve saved you.”

“What? No! That Mandalorian –”

“–Her name is Nina, by the way,” Anakin clarified, though he didn’t sound happy about it.

Obi-Wan paused at Anakin’s tone but then dismissed it. “‘Nina’, sure. She was the one who helped me.”

Triumphantly Anakin proudly proclaimed, “Yeah, but she only knew because _I_ told her. She found Dex first and then us. I could feel something was wrong in the Force so…” Anakin pointed to himself. “ _I_ rescued you. That Mandalorian just handled the other stuff.”

Obi-Wan arched a sceptical eyebrow. “…you said twice. What’s the other time?”

“When you tackled that Storm Trooper.”

“Storm what?”

“That’s what those soldiers in white armour are called. According to Dex,” Anakin shrugged. “But yeah, at the Temple, Padmé _and_ me –”

“– ‘Padmé and I’, you mean–”

“–Whatever. ‘And I’ saved you from the Storm Trooper. So, that makes it twice.”

Obi-Wan stewed over Anakin’s argument as he toyed with his fingers. A prickling sensation tingled along his fingertips. He nudged his thumbs. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan relented, “Fine. If you so insist. But that’s it. It’ll never happen again. In fact, I’ll be the one saving you next time.”

Instead of a sneer Obi-Wan was expecting, Anakin burst into a delightful smile. The boy grabbed Obi-Wan’s hands and squeezed them as he said cheerfully. “Really? Thank you. I can’t wait for you to rescue me. _But_ you got some catching up to do before you can beat me.”

A spark of unmitigated joy caught Obi-Wan by surprise. Instead of Bruck Chun, Anakin was reminding him greatly of his best friend Bant. He gave Anakin a grin and cheekily said, “This is a game, huh? I’m afraid I must take back my previous comment. The first one at the Temple doesn’t count.”

“What? Yes it does.”

 “ _Noo_ , we were all in trouble. If anything, I rescued you and Padmé first because that Cloud Trooper –”

“–Storm Trooper.”

“–Yes, that’s what I said,” Obi-Wan said breezily. “That trooper was going to draw his weapon so –”

The door groaned as it opened.

Although unable to see beyond the foot of his bed, Obi-Wan immediately knew it was Padmé when the girl muttered on the boys’ unnecessarily loud level of volume. As Anakin answered her, Obi-Wan noticed that he was laying on the top bunk and felt another spark of appreciation for the Padawan beside him. Padmé climbed up the ladder to join the boys on the bed. “She’ll be here in a bit,” the girl informed. “She’s talking to Dex.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “About what?”

“Calm down. She’s not trying to hurt us. In fact, she and Dex are trying to find a way to get us off-planet,” Padmé tapped her fingernails against the bed’s metal railing. It dinged like a musical instrument. “The spaceports are heavily guarded. Anakin, I know you don’t want to but you really might need to cut that braid –”

“–I told you, no,” the prickling fire in Anakin’s tone ended the debate.

Sighing, Padmé turned to Obi-Wan. “How are you feeling?”

His cheeks warmed at the care he was receiving. “Uh, I can’t move my body, but I’m alright.”

“You call that ‘alright’?” Padmé said with a small playful smile. Then she gave Obi-Wan a pointed look. “In all seriousness though, don’t run off like that again. Both of you. We’re in this together and I don’t want us separated for any reason, got it?”

“Yep,” Anakin agreed in a split second.

Obi-Wan thought over the girl’s request and found himself in favourable opinion of it. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Good. Now,” Padmé looked to Anakin and waited.

Anakin lost his giddy attitude and concentrated on the wall instead. There was a crack the shape of a star. In the brief odd silence that followed Obi-Wan wished again he could move. “What?” he asked.

Padmé rolled her eyes and sighed again roughly. “Anakin has something to tell you.”

“No, I don’t,” Anakin muttered.

“Yes, you do – _Anakin_ , this is stupid,” Padmé lectured. The bed squeaked as she smacked the mattress. “You need to tell Obi-Wan. Why do you insist on keeping this a secret?”

“Keeping what a secret?”

Anakin growled in frustration. “Cause this feels like a fresh start! I like it better this way. If he found out, then he might change and –”

“–Wait,” Obi-Wan grunted as he barely managed to shuffle his body closer. He peered at Anakin. “A fresh start?”

Padmé gladly answered, “Anakin isn’t from our time. In fact, none of us are from the same time. He already knew us.”

“No, Padmé please! Don’t ruin this –”

Obi-Wan gaped at him. “You _know_ us? How!?”

Just as Anakin latched onto Padmé who looked ready to launch into a tirade, the door to their room slammed open. All three kids flinched violently, hearts leaping into their throats, and whirled to the visitor. As Anakin’s forgot his exacerbation with Padmé because he was holding her wrists and her skin was soft and she was really pretty even at eleven, Obi-Wan soaked in the sight of the Mandalorian and Padmé mentally spat a swear word that would have earned her a lecture from her mother. The Mandalorian meanwhile was holding her helmet under her armpit, and her silky black hair was in disarray. It only took a second for all three of the children to recognise the stress and fear radiating off the woman.

“We need to go. Now,” she ordered.

She marched towards the bed. Padmé swatted Anakin’s hands away as she stammered, “Wait, what’s going on?”

“I can’t…move,” Obi-Wan mumbled awkwardly.

Although Anakin would have preferred an interruption different from that Mandalorian, he was still thanking his lucky stars for the dropped discussion. But the stars offered only a middle finger in return when Nina said gravely. “He’s here. Vader is on Coruscant.” She picked up a bag full of supplies and held it out towards the kids. “Which one of you can use a blaster?”

“I can,” Padmé volunteered. It was only after Anakin was holding the bag and Nina gave her the spare blaster did Padmé realise what she had just done. Insecurity made the blaster shake in her hands. She swallowed heavily as Anakin climbed down the bed.

“Come on, now!” Nina barked. “We don’t have time to waste.”

This only made Padmé’s nerves almost stretch the breaking point. Her joints protested as she joined Anakin on the ground. Nina scurried up the bed and scooped Obi-Wan into her arms, talking quietly to the mortified boy. Padmé clutched the blaster close to her chest, imaging the moment when she shot the Storm Trooper at the Temple. In a blink, panic had taken over and pulled the trigger for her. Now, her brain was too busy listing all the ways she was going to fail at protecting Anakin and Obi-Wan with the weapon in her hands.

“Psst! Padmé, you okay?”

Padmé released a soft high-pitched gasp. The gnarling vines retreated from their hold as Anakin came into view again. To the girl’s increasing worry however, beneath Anakin’s concern for her was undying confidence in her abilities. “Padmé?”

“Um…”

“Right, let’s go, let’s go!” With her hands busy carrying Obi-Wan, Nina gestured with her head towards the window. “Open it up. We got to go.”

The window panel was sticky, firm and required both Padmé and Anakin to shove it up. Just as they did, the door to the room opened. Dex rushed in and croakily said, “Why are you still here? You got to go, now!”

“Getting there,” Nina hissed. “Kids, now! Out the window!”

As Anakin and Padmé moved, Nina and Obi-Wan turned to Dex. To Obi-Wan, it seemed as though the two adults were in the midst of an intense telepathic discussion. It was short but its end finalised when Nina seized up as though preparing for battle, and Dex slouching as he stepped back. Dex made eye contact with Obi-Wan, frowning again like he was searching for someone.

Dex shook his head and said tiredly, “Go. I’ll cover your tracks.”

“Thank you,” Nina answered gratefully. “May the Force be with you.”

Even though Obi-Wan’s neck ached he tried to keep Dex in his sights. A bad feeling clawed inside his chest. But with little control over his body, Obi-Wan stayed silent as Nina clambered through the window and met the other kids outside. Coruscant’s cold night air slithered underneath their clothing and along their sensitive skin. It then occurred to Padmé that it wasn’t natural air at all but artificially cooled air pumped out by pipes attached to the buildings. It helped to tame the heat concocted by dancing bodies, loud nightclubs and street venues. Padmé looked to Nina, who was eyeing the crowd.

“Follow me,” Nina said. “Stay right by my side. Not behind me. Hold each other’s hands. Dear, have that blaster ready. Kiddo, keep that bag close. That’s carrying our supplies. Don’t want to lose that.”

“Got it,” Padmé said. Anakin nodded but focused on the ground.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I’ll just…sit here then.”

Nina chuckled. “You need to heal. But I would also appreciate a third eye. Keep a look out behind us.” Glad to have something to do, Obi-Wan shifted in the woman’s arms to gain a better view over her shoulders. Nina nudged him. “Not so obvious!”

“Sorry.”

Nina and the three children sped off. All of them aware of the building tension and whispers amongst the crowd as the news of the surprise visitor was spreading. Vader’s presence infiltrated and destroyed the fun night-out environment like a toxin. Nina only hoped she could get herself and the children away in time before they were caught in the poisonous trap.

~o0o~

All that was left was the Falleen.

The human was nursing a broken arm at the far corner of the room, huddled in the darkness like a pitiful creature. The Twi’lek was out cold for a few hours of peace before their inevitable awakening to a swollen broken jaw, dried blood on their face and a lost tooth. It made the Falleen seethe in fury but shudder as the cloaked individual drew closer.

Tossed to the side were their blasters or what was left of them anyway. Each had been snatched from their hands by an invisible force. The blasters had dangled in the air as though to tease them before being crushed into pieces. As it rained metal and distracted the bounty hunters, the intruder had dropped from the roof and handled them in a matter of seconds. There was a flash of yellow and green light, grunts and groans when fists collided and a sting when something hot cut along the Falleen’s hand.

He never believed dying from old age was a future for someone in his profession so the Falleen stood tall and waited for whatever the intruder flung at him. This bravery diminished slightly when he felt intense heat cooking his neck. Two lightsabres were positioned to scissor his neck off if he said one thing even remotely wrong.

“Lightsabres,” the intruder demanded.

The Falleen had only two paths to take and both ended in death. Considering he was old enough to remember the days of the Jedi before the Empire reigned supreme, old grudges sat firmly on his shoulders and refused to appeal to this Jedi. “You’re not getting them,” he hissed.

“Where are they?” she asked again.

“You can search all your want,” the Fallen spat. “But I ain’t telling you.”

A rough sigh left her lips. She deactivated the yellow lightsabre and tucked it away, keeping an eye on the bounty hunter. With a free hand, she hovered it before the Falleen’s face and pushed with the Force. Immediately, the Falleen felt a something sharp prick at one particular point on his skull by his right temple. It was like a pin was needling it ways through tissue and bone, rubbing and creating a high-pitch noise that echoed through his brain. All the Force’s efforts were concentrated on one spot and the Falleen’s breath quickened as he struggled against the blinding pulsing pressure building up in his skull as though it was about to burst. Finally, the Force slipped through, tied strings around the Falleen’s brain and controlled the voice box and mouth to give the intruder what she wanted.

“Underneath,” the Falleen groaned. “They’re buried underneath. The floor.”

She released him. The sudden removal was a change too fast for the Falleen to handle. He dropped to the floor. She activated her lightsabre again and used both to slice through the floor. Once a red-rimmed square was sizzling, she used to the Force to lift it up and away. Nothing. The Falleen had told the truth but even he had been unsure as to where exactly the lightsabres was buried.

Mumbling in frustration, she got to work dicing up the floor.  

It was only minutes later when she received a warning from the Force.

She slid her body to the right and narrowly dodged a bullet. Its loud blast boomed in the chamber. Judging by the angle of the bullet’s direction, the attacker was positioned on the roof, using the very same entrance point she had used to get in. She held her lightsabres at the ready, both herself and the Force allies against the threat. Then, the sniper was flung away.

She momentarily slouched before raising her shields again. She leapt to the roof, her lightsabres crisscrossed in front of her body to protect her. What she found was the unconsciousness sniper and a frown on her face. The Force hummed peacefully but comfort did not settle. She turned around to seek out her unlikely ally only to learn that a long gruelling search was not required.

He was standing right there.

She dropped her lightsabres and pulled back her hood. “Master Obi-Wan?”

“Ahsoka?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly terrified of writing Ahsoka wrong. Hope I got her right. I have seen her in Clone Wars and Rebels but I haven’t read the book. Also, with the appearance of Ahsoka, we’re now moving into the, I guess I should call it, plot of the story. I just want to warn everyone that the events I am making for this plot are purely made-up.


End file.
